


Inside Freedom’s Walls

by Gatherer_of_Clouds



Series: In This Castle of Cards [1]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insanity, Isolation, Jevil-centric, Nihilism, POV First Person, Solitary Confinement, This started out as a poem and got out of hand, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gatherer_of_Clouds/pseuds/Gatherer_of_Clouds
Summary: ”...he hadn’t forgotten me! He wouldn’t, would he?”...The Seavil’s kinda vague and can be read as a bromance or romance.
Relationships: Jevil & Lancer (Deltarune), Jevil & Seam (Deltarune), Jevil/Seam (Deltarune)
Series: In This Castle of Cards [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019560
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Inside Freedom’s Walls

It’s so dark, dark and so cold, cold. I could barely see anything when I was first cast away into my little freedom. However, the dark is muted ever so slightly by the torches that line the arching stair case out, out of the basement. Out and off into the Darkworld. Light and dark. Dark and light. Locked in a delicate balance or a never ending battle depending on who you asked. I know the truth, and it is much more, nihilistic.

Light and dark, they don’t matter at all. Light and dark, dark and light, they’re just pawns in a game. It’s all just a game. Always had been, always will be, will be. I loved games once, I suppose I still do, but games are no fun, no fun when you play them by yourself. And by myself in my little freedom I remain.

Freedom is a little lonely I admit. Sometimes the silence cuts too deep and I can’t breathe, breathe. So I scream. I scream a scream that rips forth from my raw throat and mouth full of jagged teeth, and echoes around my freedom, just to hear something, anything.

Sometimes, I’ll bounce up on my tail excited to find whoever screamed and play a game, a game with them. I could show them my devilsknife and we could ride the carousel.

My eyes, were they gray? I don’t remember, remember. They flood with salty tears when I realize that the person who made the scream was me, was me. I can’t cry because my throat aches and all I can do is wheeze laughter. Laughter is the best...doctor was it? Someone told me that, that. It could’ve been my mother. Did I have a mother? If I did, I don’t remember her, her.

It’s getting harder and harder to remember things consistently from my life before I became free, especially from my earlier years. My years before I became court jester. Maybe, it is a blessing not to remember, but I’ll never know, never know.

However, the things I do remember hold me in a death grip. I remember Rouxls Kaard. He was a stick in the mud, the mud. He wouldn’t know a good puzzle or riddle if it came up and bit him in the face, the face. That would’ve been an amusing thing to see. He was stuck up and egotistical, and he hated me, me. His fancy way of talking irked me, but I talked strangely too, too. When did I start talking strangely? Had I always repeated myself? Maybe, maybe.

I remember the Kings: Spades, Clubs, Hearts, and Diamonds. I can’t believe no one else sees it! For goodness sake our Kings, our entire society matches that of playing cards and board games. If that can’t convince anyone that our existence is but a game then, me showing them what I know would be the only other way to convince anyone that what I say is true. But, I wouldn’t bring down the yoke of this knowledge upon anyone else, anyone else.

I think King Spades had a son? Perhaps I imagined him. In any case he was a cute little darkner. He had trouble sleeping, and I was the only one who could get him to rest, rest, because I was the only one who had the hearts for it. Everyone else was annoyed by his whimpering especially his father. He was never happy with his son and refused to have any part in taking care of him. What’s worse, worse was that even the guards who were tasked with taking care of him were just as neglectful as the King Spades. Lucky for him I was not annoyed, I understood, understood.

I would cradle him in my arms, and sing to him. I wasn’t terribly good at singing, especially lullabies, but I can do anything after all! So I sang to him with my shrill and strange voice. I was born to play and entertain! I loved the little prince, and yes, yes, I remember now! His name was Lancer! I looked forward for Lancer to grow. Children were much more fun than adults. I had high hopes for the mischief, pranks, and fun we could’ve had together, together.

I scrutinize my arms. They were not fit to cradle a baby darkner any longer. I’ve torn into them with my claws because I need to feel something, anything. I shredded my lilac flesh like ribbons and boy did it feel good after hopping around numb on the cold floor for so long. My blood pooled beneath me, and often I forgot that the blood was my own. I would think that it was paint. It would glow and shimmer in the dark of my freedom. Aside from the torches, and my magic, it’s the only source of color and warmth. I think that it’s beautiful, even if my arms sting and shake. I would dip my fingers into it and I draw silly things on the walls of my freedom singing to myself.

It wasn’t just my arms either. Sometimes, I get desperate to be let inside, inside. I turn to my magic and I blast hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades at the door. My spells, as powerful as they are, are nothing compared to the magic of the barrier that was erected around me. They would just bounce back. It was like a game of dodge ball, and I would’ve had fun, if it hadn’t been so frustrating. I spent hours, although it could’ve been days, firing spell after spell, attack after attack on the door. 

Time is irrelevant in my freedom. Time, light, dark, good, bad, none of it matters. I’d grow exhausted eventually and melt to the floor, and as a last effort I would weakly fling myself into the door. Over and over and over like the carousel goes around and around and around. I’d giggle and laugh maniacally as I do it. Why was I doing this? Why did I want to get inside again? I was free so it didn’t matter, matter.

My memory is like the weather in the Lightners’ world. Unpredictable, and slowly the bits and pieces of my of mind, which began to unravel the moment I saw what that damned Knight knew, are slipping apart against my will. I’ll remember everything for awhile and be in complete control of my chaos as I practice performing, for myself perhaps, or maybe in hopes of someone coming to see me. I know it is pointless, but I have to keep my skills sharp. Might as well have fun as the world burns. The next moment I’ll be at that door banging on the bars until my knuckles bleed underneath my gloves and spew out the secrets of the universe that the Knight showed me.

The Knight, the Knight. Now there’s someone who’s more crazy than I am. Of course, I’m not too crazy. Not at all! I know perfectly well that, while I may have my odd quirks I’m perfectly stable. I just like being chaotic that’s all. Or maybe he wasn’t crazy. He always seemed to know what’s going on.

Was I always like this? I must’ve been, even before he showed his smug face. Mortal minds aren’t meant to grasp the knowledge he he possesses. I don’t know why he showed me what he did. Was it to amuse him? Was I supposed to be his prophet? His messenger of impending doom? He was a very good puppeteer.

I became a jester because...because...I think I wanted people to laugh at me on my own terms, not because...It doesn’t matter, matter! I got to play and have fun, fun! After all the best people are crazy, crazy. I would know, I’m one of the best in the entire Darkworld! Hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades! I can do anything!

Well...anything except beat myself in cards or break inside. I needed to see someone, anyone. It could even be Roulx I don’t care, don’t care! I haven’t seen anyone in so long...

The one person I wanted to see more than anyone else was the court magician, Seam the rag doll cat. My ears prick up just thinking of him, him and the fun and games we play! I wag my tail gleefully and start shooting off little fireworks with my magic. Seam would like this design for sure, for sure! I jump up and around shouting different jokes and puns that were sure to make him facepalm. He’d try so hard not to laugh, but I am fast, fast, clever, clever! I know exactly how to make him double over in laughter. He and I are best friends you see, see. Seam and I are the only ones who can beat each other in our games, and he often defends me when jerks like Roulx complained about my quirks and chaos. It isn’t my fault that I can do anything!

Seam and I are a packaged deal. Ever since we met we do everything together, and the shows we put on! There isn’t anyone who can entertain better than us! We can do anything!Seam’s chuckles ring out, and I flip right side up again letting go of my hat, ready to turn and catch him in the act.

“See! I told you I could make you laugh! I ca-“ But nobody was there, “Seam?” I sink to the floor. It seemed much colder now. When had it gotten so cold? My magic started to fizz, pop, and fade into nothingness, but I was’t paying attention to it anymore.

I forgot, forgot. Seam locked everyone else up, and me out. I went mad, not in a good way, he said. He didn’t see what I saw, couldn’t understand why I was acting the way I was. I tried to make him understand. The world, our world is nothing but a game, a game, and games are made to play and have fun! Why didn’t he understand? He understood me before.

“Why did you leave me, Seam? WHY?” I run toward the bars, and pulled my devilsknife out of the void. I had to get inside! I slash at the door, that infernal thing, but Seam’s magic threw me backwards. I tumble over myself and my devilsknife skids across the floor. I lay facedown and began to sob.

I wonder if he forgot about me. I think everyone has. That must be why no one comes down here to glimpse into my freedom. Was I angry with him? I think maybe I was at the beginning, but not anymore. I want to see him again, to talk to him again. To tell him I forgive him for locking everyone away, and ask him if he forgives me. Did the Kings replace me, me? I wouldn’t be surprised. I hope that whoever the new court jester may be is a good friend to Seam, but their shows with him wouldn’t be as jaw dropping as ours. Did Seam, Seam replace me? My claws sank into the palms of my hands. He wouldn’t, right? I knew he needed friends and company, but he hadn’t forgotten me! He wouldn’t, would he?

“Please...come back...I’m so lonely, Seam!” But nobody came. On shaky legs, I stand back up and limp towards the door. Hesitantly I put my hand up to the barrier. I leaned against it, and relished the feeling of his magic prickle beneath my hands and cheek. I let my eyes slide shut and imagined Seam’s gigantic warm arms wrap around me in a hug. I always liked his hugs. If I squeezed my eyes shut, I could see his shop lit up with flickering candles. 

“You’re a funny little man,” Seam remarked in his raspy voice.

“And you, you are a silly old shopkeeper,” I whisper back.


End file.
